


Silent Confessions

by LeapAngstily



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Captain-y cuddles because we all have needs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Therapeutic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3317384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gigi has a visitor after the match against Milan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> So, Milan lost again – what a surprise. What I’m mourning, though, is the obvious lack of pre-match Gigi/Monto captain cuddles, because Monto missed the match. This was not okay, which is why I needed to write some fluff to compensate for it.

There are not many things that manage to surprise Gigi at this point of his life, but finding Riccardo at his front door that night is definitely one of them.  
  
It is not only because Juve had beaten Milan earlier – they are friends and what happens on the pitch stays on the pitch – or because Riccardo had not even been at the stadium for the match.   
  
No, the main reason behind Gigi’s bafflement is that it is the first time Riccardo has come over to his place at all. They have always been close, but until now this is where Riccardo has drawn the line.  
  
“I thought you were in Milan,” Gigi notes with a forced nonchalance, smiling down at Riccardo who is sitting on the porch steps, his coat wrapped tightly around himself to stay warm in the cold night air.  
  
“I was,” Riccardo replies simply, meeting Gigi’s gaze hesitantly. He looks like he wants to say something more, but in the end he just bites his lips together and waits for Gigi to ask the obvious question.  
  
“Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here,” Gigi says gently, offering his hand to Riccardo to help him up, “I’ll make you some tea or something.”  
  
He does not ask why Riccardo is there. It is not important. What is important is to make sure he does not catch a cold because Gigi was acting like an inhospitable jackass.  
  
“How long did you wait?” Gigi asks as he opens the door and lets Riccardo inside, “Did you even watch the game?”  
  
“I did,” Riccardo snaps back immediately, before he bites his lip and continues in a softer tone, “Can we not talk about it? Please?”  
  
“Sure, whatever you want,” Gigi answers with a soothing smile, wordlessly trying to tell Riccardo he has no intention of taunting him about the loss, “So, is tea okay?”  
  
Riccardo only nods, following Gigi into the kitchen and sitting down at the table, looking around the room with mildly curious eyes.  
  
Gigi studies Riccardo from the corner of his eye as he fills the kettle and switches it on.   
  
Something does not feel right. The Milan captain has never been particularly talkative or open with his emotions, but despite that Gigi has usually been able to read him well enough. Tonight he seems closed-off, almost scared.  
  
“Do you remember when they first made you the captain?” Gigi finally asks when he hands the mug of steaming hot tea to Riccardo, “I told you I’d always be here if you needed someone to talk to. Because being the captain doesn’t mean you suddenly have infinite strength to go with it.”  
  
“Yeah, I remember,” Riccardo says softly. Their fingers brush when he accepts the mug from Gigi.  
  
“So, is that why you’re here?”  
  
Riccardo turns the mug in his hands, staring at the brown liquid, and then he sets it on the table without even taking a sip before he answers, “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t want to  _talk_. I just— I needed the company, I guess.”  
  
Gigi opens his mouth to remind Riccardo he has his wife and friends in Milan, so driving all the way to Turin makes no sense whatsoever, but he holds his tongue when Riccardo looks up at him and Gigi realizes he has never seen him look so lost and helpless.  
  
“It all seems so useless,” Riccardo whispers, holding Gigi’s gaze, “I sit at the sidelines, watching how everything falls apart – wishing I could do something about it – but then when I get a chance, I’m even worse than them: it’s like I can get nothing right.”  
  
“You were injured – no one’s expecting you to change everything right away,” Gigi tells him firmly, reaching out to touch his shoulder, a silent reassurance.  
  
“You’re wrong,” Riccardo argues, pursing his lips in defiance, “They  _are_  expecting me to make a difference. I’m the captain; I’m supposed to carry this team out of the dark place!”  
  
He takes a deep breath, like trying to shake off the sudden outburst, closing his eyes for a while before speaking again, his tone much softer now, “I said I didn’t wanna talk about it. There’s no use. I’ll figure it out on my own.”  
  
“Then why did you come here?” Gigi asks softly, uncertainty sneaking into his voice without permission.  
  
Riccardo only picks up the mug and takes a sip, moving the tea around in his mouth before swallowing it, considering his next words carefully, like unsure what the answer to Gigi’s question actually is.  
  
“Can you hold me? Just for tonight?”  
  
It is the second time Riccardo has managed to take Gigi by surprise that night, with such a simple question – a question Gigi has heard many times from both men and women, in both sexual and platonic sense, and more often than not has been more than happy to oblige.  
  
“You sure?” he asks calmly, rubbing Riccardo’s shoulder in a decidedly friendly fashion.  
  
“Please?” Riccardo whispers, meeting Gigi’s eyes again. He sets the mug back on the table before resting his hand over Gigi’s on his shoulder, stroking his fingertips over the back of his hand, “It’s— I need it. I need an escape.”  
  
Gigi understands the unspoken message: Riccardo needs a place where he does not need to be strong – where he can openly admit to needing someone else.  
  
Riccardo has never been good at relying on others.  
  
“Come here,” he tells Riccardo and pulls him up from his chair and into a tight embrace, his arms wrapped around Riccardo’s shoulders and hands stroking his hair, Riccardo’s face pressed against his shoulder, “All you needed to do was ask – I’m always here for you.”  
  
Riccardo’s shoulders are shaking in his hold. For a second Gigi thinks he is crying, but there are no tears when he moves his hand to stroke Riccardo’s cheek. Gigi can tell he is not far from it, though, when Riccardo wraps his own arms around Gigi and hides his face into his shirt with a staggering breath.  
  
They stay like that for a long time, Gigi rocking Riccardo in his arms softly, his nose pressed into the soft curls. It feels like an eternity before Riccardo finally relaxes, leaning his whole body against Gigi’s, sniffling quietly against his chest.  
  
Still there are no tears when Gigi urges him to look up at his face, gently stroking his cheekbone, fingertips brushing the skin right below Riccardo’s eye. He has dark bags under his eyes, like he has not been able to sleep in a long, long time.  
  
“You can stay the night if you like,” Gigi whispers and then he presses a chaste kiss on Riccardo’s forehead, “You look like you could use some sleep.”  
  
“I’d like that.” Nothing more than a whisper.  
  
It is Riccardo who searches for Gigi’s lips with his own, standing on tiptoes, one hand slipping up to the back of Gigi’s neck for extra support. The kiss is hesitant, just a soft nibble on Gigi’s lower lip, and then he pulls away before Gigi can return the kiss.  
  
Gigi wants to follow the motion, to kiss Riccardo again – it is something he has been thinking of for years but never acted on – but at the same time he feels like he would be taking an advantage of Riccardo’s vulnerable state.  
  
“Let’s go to bed,” Gigi says instead, dropping his arms from Riccardo’s shoulders reluctantly. Then he wraps one arm around his waist to guide him through the house and into the bedroom.  
  
Riccardo follows his lead without a word, but there is flash of something in his expression –disappointment and anticipation mixed together – when Gigi glances at his face at the bedroom door.  
  
“You don’t mind sharing the bed, right?” Gigi asks, gesturing towards the wide bed nonchalantly before he leans in to brush his lips against Riccardo’s temple, “We can just sleep. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”  
  
Gigi pulls off his shirt and slips into the bathroom for a second, to brush his teeth and wash his face. He digs through his cupboard quickly for the extra toothbrush he knows he has stashed somewhere in there, before picking up an extra towel and heading back to Riccardo.  
  
“Take your time,” he tells Riccardo as he hands him the towel and the toothbrush with a triumphant smile. Riccardo returns the smile uncertainly and disappears into the bathroom with a soft “thanks.”  
  
Gigi kicks off his trousers so that he is only in his underwear. He considers going back to the kitchen to clean up the half-finished cup of tea but decides against it, slipping between the covers instead – he chooses the side farthest away from the bathroom in case Riccardo wants to have some space.  
  
For a second he wonders what it is that makes Riccardo so special – Gigi is not known for turning down sex when it is so readily offered to him – but really, there is no need to wonder because he knows the answer already.  
  
It is  _because_  Riccardo is special. It is because Gigi has felt protective over Riccardo since he first joined the national team. It is because Riccardo has never been able to hide anything from Gigi.  
  
It is because fucking Riccardo would change their relationship forever.  
  
He snaps out of his thoughts when Riccardo returns to the room. He is still wearing his t-shirt, but he has folded his jeans neatly, carrying them under his arm along with his cardigan. Gigi forces his eyes away from the black boxer-briefs he is wearing.  
  
“Everything okay?” Gigi asks lazily, turning to his side and pulling the blanket off the empty side of the bed, looking at Riccardo expectantly.  
  
“Yeah, thanks,” Riccardo answers with a hesitant smile as he sets his clothes on the floor and sits down on the edge of the bed. He does not meet Gigi’s eyes when he settles down and pulls the covers over himself.  
  
Gigi reaches for the light switch by the headboard and turns off the lights. Then he scoots a bit closer to Riccardo, laying his arm carefully around his waist – Riccardo did ask Gigi to hold him, after all.  
  
Riccardo lets out a breath he seems to have been holding, shifting closer to Gigi until he is practically wrapped inside his embrace and they are only covering less than half of the mattress.  
  
This time Gigi is not sure which one of them initiates the kiss; he only knows their lips are suddenly pressed together. The angle is awkward – the position cannot be comfortable for Riccardo’s neck – and their noses bump and teeth clash against each other when they try to find a better one.  
  
Riccardo gasps for air when they break the kiss, his mouth remaining half-opened, eyes closed. Their faces are so close that Gigi imagines he can actually feel the fluttering of Riccardo’s eyelashes against his skin.  
  
One of Riccardo’s hands is trapped between their chests, his fingertips running over Gigi’s bare skin gently, drawing invisible marks over his heart. Gigi can feel Riccardo’s budding erection pressed against his hip and it definitely does not help his own situation.  
  
“We should sleep,” he says, lifting his hand to caress Riccardo’s face. The urge to kiss him again is almost too strong to ignore.  
  
“Why?” Riccardo asks quietly, his fingers on Gigi’s chest halting. It is not defiant – Gigi realizes with a start Riccardo sounds  _defeated_.  
  
“Because you need to sleep,” Gigi whispers. He brushes his lips against Riccardo’s again to assure him this is not a rejection, “And I don’t want to take an advantage of you when you’re like this.”  
  
“I need  _you_ ,” Riccardo retorts, sounding decidedly rejected, “And I’m  _fine_  – I’ve wanted to do this for ages.”  
  
“Then you won’t mind waiting a little longer,” Gigi states simply, fighting to keep his voice steady even though Riccardo has returned to his stroking, rubbing his fingertips over his nipple, “I’ll still be here tomorrow. And the day after. And as long as you want me.”  
  
It startles him that he is actually offering Riccardo a relationship. But at the same time it is the only option, really, because Gigi could never have sex with Riccardo just for the sake of it.  
  
“Let’s just wait a little longer; let’s do this right,” he concludes quietly, kissing Riccardo again for a good measure, “Can you do that for me, Riccardo?”  
  
Riccardo stays silent for a long time, considering Gigi’s words, and then without a word he ducks his head down, snuggling even closer to Gigi, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.  
  
Gigi decides to take that as a “yes,” a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he wraps his arms around Riccardo again, holding him close, kissing his hair gently before finally closing his eyes in hopes of catching some sleep.  
  
“Thank you, Gigi,” the whisper is too quiet for Gigi to actually hear it – just a soft mumble against his skin – but it still makes his heart swell just a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna know a secret? Gigi was the first person I actively shipped with Monto. Yes, even before Pazzo or Pirlo. Hell, _One Man’s Fairytale_ was originally supposed to be a Gigi/Monto fic! In the end Pirlo/Monto stole the show, and I’m honestly happy with how things turned out, but I still find it upsetting how few Gigi/Monto fics I’ve written since then. So there, this was my justification for this story. Aside from my general need for therapy fluff, of course.
> 
> Feedback would be lovely!
> 
> (Sequel: [Say it Like You Mean it](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3460391))


End file.
